CHAPTER 10:
Han held the princess secure with one arm clasped tight around her waist and steered the swoop bike with the other. Leia clenched her teeth as they zoomed through narrow streets at a speed that she was certain would get them noticed.
"Where are we going?" Leia yelled against the wind. "Han! The Falcon's the other way!"
"Not anymore," Han made a sharp right turn.
"Where—oh!" Leia shut her eyes as they almost collided with a sedan.
"That was close!" Han muttered into her ear, though Leia was certain he hadn't intended for her to hear him.
Leia feared that her weight would cause Han to make a fatal mistake. She bit her lip and concentrated on keeping her body in sync with his. Her fingers clasped the arm with which he held her, and she pressed herself against him so that she moved with his every move. She then slowed her respiration as she forced the fear out of her mind. She had no reason not to trust Han's piloting abilities, and she had no other choice but to trust him.
With her eyes closed, Leia began to "see" the road before her. Her body leaned to the left with Han's as they zipped around a slow taxi and pressed forward as they picked up speed again. They moved as if they were one with the bike, one with each other. Leia found herself enjoying the ride despite, or maybe in spite, of the danger they were in. She had always been somewhat of a thrill seeker, but this went beyond anything she ever experienced with anyone.
Leia's blue eyes popped open and a short, stifled gasp escaped her mouth. But before she could process that she this exhilarating moment was being shared with Han Solo—Lt. Han Solo (could it be true?), the cocky pilot brought the swoop bike to a stop.
"Why are we stopping?" she asked, her hands still clutching his arm.
"Curfew."
"Curfew?" Leia repeated.
"If you did your research," Han chided as he lifted her off of the bike and gently placed her on the ground, "you'd know that there's a city-wide curfew."
"Oh," she grimaced.
"Always acting without thinkin'," Han shook his head.
"Me?" Leia's brow furrowed.
"Keep it down, Your Worship," Han stiffened and glanced around. His shoulders relaxed, and he pulled a key off of his utility belt, "Come 'ere."
The princess scowled as she held her bound hands out before him. Once the binders fell from her hands, Leia balled her right hand into a fist and slammed it into Han's stomach.
"Uff!" Han doubled over. "What was that for?"
Anger flashed behind her blue eyes, "What's with the Imperial uniform?"
"What?" Han threw his hands out. "I was wearing stormtrooper armor when I met you!"
"Yes, well…" For a moment Leia was completely flustered. He was right, so why was she so angry? Her fingers formed fists once again, but she kept them tight at her side, "Does this uniform belong to you?"
"Are you asking me if you screwed up a clean get away by tossing out those smoke detonators before the stormtrooper checked my ID?" Han leaned slightly forward, his voice low and accusatory.
Her mouth opened and closed twice as she mulled over his words and their implication. Leia took a step back from him, "Yes."
Han glared into her large blue eyes and found himself without a response. He sighed, "We need to get outa here."
He reached out a hand, and Leia hesitated for the slightest of seconds, but just the slightest of seconds. She could put her questions and accusations aside for the time being. Han led her down a shrub-lined narrow path with strong, determined steps. He gave her the impression that he knew where he was going, and she silently cursed herself for lack of foresight when she put her rescue plan together.
"Perfect," he mumbled.
Leia stared at the large, foreboding house before her, "For what?"
Han smirked as he waggled his eyebrows, "I know you've always wanted to shack up with me."
"In your dreams, flyboy!"
"Guess my dreams just came true," he winked and chuckled when her cheeks reddened with indignation. Then Han sobered as he fiddled with the security pad, "We'll hide out here until morning."
"Why don't we just head back to the Falcon?"
The door of the antique house popped open. Han peeked inside, "Can't. She's docked in the main trading station."
"What were you thinking?" she planted her hands on her hips.
He looked over his shoulder and down at her, "Of you."
She clamped her mouth shut. Han turned his attention back to the dark room before him. Leia jerked him back outside, "What if someone comes home?"
"Look around," Han stepped into the house. "No one's comin' home anytime soon."
For the first time, Leia noticed that the old house had an elongated sun porch that encircled most of the house. The windows were closed tight against the cool night, and no traces of any vehicles could be seen even in the bright light of the rising moon. Still, Leia couldn't shake her trepidation, "How can you be so certain?"
"It's a summer villa," Han felt his way through the narrow entry way. "The season holiday doesn't start for another couple of weeks." He bumped into a table and changed direction, "Again, if you did your research…"
"Alright, already!" she huffed.
"Still, we'll keep the lights off just in case."
Leia followed Han through what she figured was the kitchen. She felt sick to her stomach. How could she have acted to thoughtlessly? Leia had always been meticulous about every minute detail of the terrain, customs, and political environment for every mission. But she had never planned on coming anywhere near Vasulo. A possibly fateful mistake, and now she had endangered her friends. She pulled on Han's belt, "What about Luke and Chewie?"
"Chewie's with the Falcon," Han grabbed her hand and led her into another dark room. "He should be left alone there since it's an interstellar port. Luke knows where we are."
"How can you be sure?"
"Watch your step," he gently tugged her up a flight of stairs. "I just know."
"How?" she repeated.
"Just trust me," he sighed.
Leia stopped, and Han saw her right eyebrow arch even in the poor light, "In that uniform?"
"Whadda bout you?" he took a step back so that they were both standing on the same step, giving him the advantage of towering over her. He reached out and took a lock of her platinum-streaked hair in his hand, "This better wash out."
She pushed his hand away and took a step up so that she was now eye-level with him. Then she curled her lips and whispered, "I thought you like blondes."
Han stole two steps and leaned over her, "What do you know about what I like?"
Undeterred, Leia moved forward, "I see how your head practically snaps off when a blonde female of any species walks by."
"So you see?" his lips slipped into an easy smile, "You watchin' me?"
"Not as much as you watch me," she squeezed passed him and gained three steps on him. Then she rested a hand on each handrail, "So you don't like my hair?"
"Not one bit," Han skipped a couple of steps so that they were eye-level once again. "And I don't like those blue eyes." He pushed passed her, "It's like lookin' at Luke."
"What do you have against Luke?" she followed him as he stalked into a large bedroom.
"Nothin'," Han glanced around the room and then headed for another door. "I just don't like thinkin' of Luke when I'm lookin' at you."
Leia's brow furrowed, "What's--"
"When I look at you, I want to see you," he slid the door open. "Perfect!"
"What?" Leia followed him into an opulent refresher.
Han tossed her a towel, "Clean yourself up."
Leia rubbed the soft, fluffy towel against her cheek, "But I'll be recognized."
"Right now, they're lookin' for a blonde, blue-eyed teenager, not the obnoxious dark-haired princess from Alderaan."
Leia cocked her head to the side, "I'm sure the Imperials have been alerted to my presence."
"We'll find you another disguise for you," Han muttered as he returned to exploring the bedroom.
Leia bit her lip, "You'll need another disguise as well." Then she added, "Unless you prefer to wear an Imperial uniform."
When Han didn't answer, Leia shrugged and walked deeper into the large refresher. In the middle of the room was a huge octagonal shower large enough for two people. Leia glanced over her shoulder, wondering what Han was doing. A tiny shiver zipped through her, inciting a small smile. It was probably a good thing that he hadn't wondered too far into the refresher.
The princess closed the door and then peeled off her clothes. She then stepped into the shower and perused the controls until she figured out how they worked. She wished she could flip on the lights, but a water shower in the dark or under any circumstances was a rare luxury she wasn't going to waste.
Her eyes instinctively closed, and a small gasp escaped her lips as the hot water prickled her skin. She soaked her head, moving her hands through her hair so that the semi-permanent dye ran down the drain. Then Leia examined the various bottles of sweet-smelling shampoos and body washes, and her eyes lit up. She brought several bottles to her nose before deciding on a floral scented shampoo. She poured a generous amount into her hands and rubbed it into her hair until a rich, white lather engulfed each strand. Then she repeated the same process with the body washes.
"Hey, Your Worship!" Han knocked on the door, causing the princess to jump. "Hurry up in there. I found you somethin' to wear."
"Oh great!" Leia muttered as images of outfits Han might pick out for her just to humiliate her fluttered through her mind.
She shut off the shower and wrapped the large towel twice around her slender body. Leia pulled her shoulders back and stepped out of the bathroom door and into the bedroom. There Han stood, no longer wearing the Imperial uniform, but a dark red tunic and navy blue pants tucked into shiny black boots. The trim on the tunic shimmered silver under the light of the moon that seeped through the window.
Leia smiled, "My, you clean up well."
"So do you," Han winked.
Leia's cheeks reddened as she realized that she was wearing only a towel, and her long dark hair was dripping down her shoulders and back.
"Come 'ere," he beckoned her over to the bed with a wave of his hand.
The princess inhaled, readying herself for a showdown with Solo, but then she noticed the dress he had laid out for her. She walked over to it and touched the smooth material. The dress was a soft blue with pink trim, an elegant dress despite its pallid colors. She glanced up at him, her mouth forming an 'O'.
Her open reaction to the clothes combined with the fact that she was wearing only a towel and standing that close to him ignited a giddy spark in Han's gut. He smiled at her, not his usual lop-sided grin or smug smirk, but a genuine smile, and to his surprise, she returned the same easy smile. That smile, the way her eyes—large and brown, not Luke-blue—crinkled at the edges, his heart couldn't help but flip.
"If I didn't know you better, Captain Solo," Leia arched an eyebrow, "I'd say you had taste."
Han dropped his chin and his voice, "Maybe you should get to know me better."
"Mmm…" she pressed her lips together, "Maybe I should."
Han's brow rose, and his mouth fell open.
"But not right now," Leia turned her attention back to the lavish dress upon the bed. "So if you please…"
"I'll be outside," Han shyly glanced at her and then the dress on the bed. "Let me know when you're finished."
The door clicked behind Han, but Leia didn't notice. Her complete attention was consumed by the luxurious items lying next to the dress. Fenshiv silk undergarments! Leia ran her bottom lip through her teeth as she lifted the garments and pressed them against herself. She then smiled as she started to slip on each garment.
Han leaned against the banister and stared at the closed door before him. His mind was unraveling as he did his best not to imagine what was going on behind that door. He had his fantasies about the princess, like all of the male rebels—and maybe some female, he was certain. But this, her standing next to him wearing only a towel and dripping wet, her dressing behind that door…. Han rubbed his hand over his face. Could this really be happening?
Han straightened and turned away from the door. He glanced over the banister, his eyes following the curve of the staircase as it disappeared into the darkness. Han Solo was not like all the other male rebels, and he did not fantasize about the princess. He rolled his eyes and expelled a short forced breath. Who was he kidding? He constantly teased her, leered at her….it was all in good fun, right? After all, her ire entertained him to no end, and he loved the flush of her cheeks and fire in her eyes when he found the perfect way to irk her.
Pure entertainment and nothing more, right? Han turned back toward the door. Before he could give the matter anymore thought, the door creaked open.
"Could you help me, please?" Leia clutched the dress to her chest.
"Of course," Han slowly walked over to her. She turned around and pulled her long dark hair over her shoulder.
Han's fingers fumbled with the slim ties that cinched the dress tight around her torso. He pulled one side and then the other until the dress lied flat against her body, "Finished."
Leia walked back into the room and stood before the full-length mirror. She pushed her hair back as she examined the way the dress emphasized her curves. Although the dress was a size larger than she would have preferred, the extra petticoats and the lacing of the bodice hid the fact that the dress did not belong to her. Her breast were pressed tight and lifted, and the billowing skirt of the dress accentuated her tiny waist.
Han stood behind her, his mouth agape. The pallid blue dress emphasized curve of her breast and the elegant length of her neck, and he marveled at how something so trivial as a fancy dress transformed her into an exotic creature, at least exotic to him. He never had the pleasure of seeing her in her royal garments, garments most likely grander and more expensive than this dress. However, Han picked this dress—and the undergarments she wore. Somehow, it seemed impossible to him that she could be any more beautiful than she was right now.
His eyes caught Leia's in the mirror, "Well, you definitely don't look like a teenager."
Leia turned around and faced him, smiling, "Good, because I hardly think eighteen is teenage." Then her eyes went far away and the smile faded, "And after everything I…"
Han stepped forward and ran a hand through her hair, "A lady as fine as you can't go running around with her hair all wild." He discreetly smiled to himself as he caught her attention, "How about letting me come up with somethin' more appropriate?"
Leia's eyebrows peeked and she smirked, "What do you know about styling 'ladies' hair?"
Solo grabbed her hand and led her to a vanity, "Why don't you take a seat and let me show ya'?"
Leia's large dark eyes twinkled as Han chose a brush from the table. Han ran the brush from the crown of her head to the ends, pressing the soft bristles against her scalp. Leia's eyes fluttered closed as she enjoyed each stroke, and Han's chest swelled at the sight of her pleasure. He breathed in her sweet scent as he ran the brush through her hair several more times than necessary, indulging in her revelry.
Leia opened her eyes as Han returned the brush to the table and picked up a slender comb. He then parted her hair horizontally above her ears and gathered the upper portion in one hand while he secured the bottom half with a clip. Leia bit her lip, intently watching the deft movements of Han's hand. He twisted and pinned and pinned and twisted until the top portion of her hair resembled an intricate flower. Before she had a moment to examine it, Han pushed her head down, and he went to work on the bottom half of her head.
"All finished," Han smiled at her reflection in the mirror.
The princess turned her head from the right and then to the left as she tried to get a look at the back of her head. Han handed her a mirror, and she gazed at the hand mirror reflected in the large mirror before her. He wrapped the bottom portion of her hair into an elegant bun and twisted the rest of the top half of her hair around it.
"Impressive," she smiled at Han's reflection.
"Told you I'm good with—"
Lea rolled her eyes, "your hands."
Han smile slipped into smugness, "Wanna see what else my hands can do for you?"
Leia shook her head, but a smile played on her lips, "No thanks, flyboy."
The princess then rifled through the slender drawer of the vanity.
"Whatcha lookin' for?"
She pulled out a thin case, "A girl with such a hair style needs a little color." She opened the case and studied it, "I think this shade will go well with the pink trim of my dress."
Han craned his neck over her shoulder so he could get a gander of the color. Leia dabbed her finger into the creamy substance and artfully spread it upon her lips. Han watched in awe. He had seen other women apply make-up before, but it never interested him. Leia, though, was different. She was always running around in ill-fitting rebel-issued clothes, and her hair may have been impeccably styled—if you wanted to call it style, he never thought about her as a woman who cared much for such frivolous things as make-up, let alone know what to do with it. But like him, she had a life before the Death Star.
Leia placed a dot of the rosy color on each cheek before rubbing the color into her skin. Her unusually tan skin complimented the creamy color, giving her an elegant glow.
"Wow," Han unwittingly breathed, and as soon as the tiny sentiment escaped his lips, his own cheeks colored.
Princess Leia smiled at his reflection, an elegant smile that seeped of confidence with perhaps a hint of arrogance, and Han found himself more drawn to the rebel princess.
"Hungry, Your Highness?" he held a hand out to her.
"Mmm," she took his hand. "Starving. Know of any restaurants open after curfew?"
"Better," he nodded and smugly smiled. "Come on."
Leia lifted the edge of her dress as she accompanied Han down the winding staircase and into the darkened bottom floor. Han held her hand tight as he felt his way back to the kitchen.
"I thought you said this is a summer house," Leia slipped her hand free of his.
"It is."
"Then there won't be anything to eat here," she folded her arms across her chest.
Han looked over his shoulder, readying himself with a smart response. But then his eyes fell upon her chest, and all words left his head.
The princess tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, "You have the manners of a gundark!"
"Me?" He managed to look innocent.
"Yes, you," she stomped over to him. She laid a finger under his chin and tipped it up, "It's rude to stare at a woman's breasts."
"I've just ne'er seen yours look like…" he turned his head side to side and raised his brow, "like that."
"Like what?"
"Like…," he gestured toward her breast with his hands, "That!"
"Why you!" she reached down and grabbed his groin.
"Agh!" Han managed to pry himself from her grip. "What is with you!"
"Just trying to get your attention," Leia narrowed her eyes on him and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Awh!" Han paced in a small circle. "You had my attention! You didn't need to do that!"
Leia's chest rose and fell as she reigned in her ire. Han stopped and looked down at her, "I'm the one with the manners of a gundark?" He shook his head, "It's not my fault."
"What's not your fault?"
"I'm just not used to seeing you look…like this."
"Like what?"
"So beautiful."
The princess blinked her eyes, "Beautiful?"
"Well," Han now crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight between his feet, "I've always thought you were beautiful. I just haven't e'er seen you like…oh! Let's just find something to eat!" Han huffed as he stomped toward the pantry.
Leia was slow to follow, "You think I'm beautiful?"
"Yeah, when your mouth is shut," Han pushed the door open, hoping that the sight of a stocked pantry would end the uncomfortable conversation.
Leia sighed and smiled, "I'll take that as a compliment, Captain." She walked into the pantry and glanced around, "Anything edible?"
"How does viligo cheese and boijoti crackers sound?" he pulled a tin can of crackers from the top shelf and handed it to her before he grabbed the can of cheese.
"Sounds wonderful!" she examined the tin and pried it open.
"And to wash it down…." Han disappeared deeper into the pantry, "a bottle of Chimiri droli wine."
"Huh," Leia swayed her hips like a shy maiden. "You certainly know how to wine and dine a lady."
"I do have a way with the ladies," Han sported the smuggest grin in his array of facial expressions.
"That's not what I heard from Luke," Leia carefully spread the cheese on a cracker using another cracker.
Han's brow lowered, "What's Luke been saying?"
"Here," Leia handed him one of the crackers and then stuffed the other one into her mouth in a very un-royal manner.
"What's Luke been sayin'?"
Leia's eyebrows knitted together, "About what?"
Han glared at her, "You…I…"
"Did you happen to find some glasses for the wine?" Leia tilted her head and dropped her chin.
Han gazed upon her, his emotions in turmoil. He hated it when she changed the subject, and he hated it more when he couldn't remember what the subject was before she changed it. She returned his gaze, but her pursed lips and wide eyes indicated that she was waiting for him to say something. What did she ask him?
The princess lifted the bottle of wine and dropped her head another centimeter, "Glasses?"
"No glasses," Han took the bottle from her and pried it open. "It's too dark to go exploring."
Leia glanced out the pantry door, "I take it that it's not as safe as you made it out to be."
"It's safe enough," he pressed his lips together but didn't meet her eyes. Then he handed the bottle over to her, "You do the honors."
Leia took the bottle and held it up to her nose. Her nose wrinkled in response to the sweet tangy scent of the wine. Then she tipped the bottle to her lips and took a generous swig.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, "It's pretty good." She handed the bottle to him and returned to spreading cheese on crackers.
The pair ate in silence, trading cheese crackers and the bottle of wine between them. Leia stole glances of her companion as she nibbled on the crackers.
"What?" Han finally asked.
The princess shook her head, "Nothing."
Han narrowed his eyes on her, "It's not nothin'. What?"
She wiped non-existent crumbs from her lips, "How come you never mentioned you…you served the Empire." She finally found the courage to look up at him.
Han leaned back and took a drink of the wine. He sighed, "I was wonderin' when you were gonna get around to snoopin' into my life."
"I hardly call it snooping," she puffed out her chest with indignation. "After all, you were the one donning the uniform."
"It was a long time ago," he muttered, hoping she'd let it go.
"Obviously not that long ago," she challenged. "That uniform fit quite well."
"Always chaffed my neck," Han reached over and stole a cracker. He shoved it in his mouth before washing it down with another swig of wine.
"A ranked officer in the Imperial Navy," she crossed her arms over her chest. "Impressive."
Han stopped eating and glared at her, "You really think so?"
She met his unwavering gaze. She knew she was treading in dangerous waters, but she had to know…know what? It scared her to think someone she had grown to…to what? Admire? Yes, she certainly admired him. He was brave and smart and strong. Like? Well, of course she liked him when he wasn't aggravating her. So to think of Han as an Imperial officer…
Han put down the bottle of wine, "You were a member of the Imperial Senate."
"That was different!" her eyes wildly blinked as her voice rose in pitch. "I didn't serve the Emperor!"
"You didn't?" Han raised his brow.
"I served the people of Alderaan!"
"But you did follow the Emperor's laws," Han pointed a finger at her.
Leia's bottom lip jutted forward, "Not well enough, you'd have to agree."
Han chuckled, "Yep, I'd have to agree." He handed her the bottle of wine, "Turns out I wasn't so good at it either."
A smile played on the princess' lips, "You do have a problem following orders." She tipped the wine bottle against her mouth.
"Can't argue with that," all levity left Han's mien.
Leia considered the sudden mood shift in her companion as she shifted her position. She rested her weight upon her left hand and leaned slightly toward him. "What happened?" she whispered.
"Chewie was a slave," Han shrugged. "My superior was going to kill him. I helped him escape." He mirthlessly smiled, "Earned me a court-martial and dishonorable discharge."
The princess slowly nodded and pushed the bottle of wine to him, "Not so dishonorable, in my opinion."
Han took the bottle and finished off the tangy liquid, "It was probably the best thing that ever happened to me."
Leia sucked on her bottom lip and stared at the dusty floor, "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For what I said. What I did."
Han's countenance pinched as he ran the day's events through his mind, "You said and did a lot today, Sweetheart. You gotta be more specific than that."
"I shouldn't have accused you of not caring about the slavery of those non-Humans," her head dropped in shame.
Han studied the crown of her head, "I wasn't going to leave that situation as it was."
"Then," she shyly peered up at him through her long lashes, "why didn't you say something?"
Han sighed, "Chewie and me would've taken care of it."
"How?"
His eyes widened, "In our own way. Without your help!"
"Why without me?" she frowned. "I'm quite capable in a fight, and I can take care of myself."
"Oh, you can, can you?" Han smirked.
Leia pressed her lips together, "Well, maybe if we worked together, things would have turned out differently."
"Maybe," he reached out and touched her cheek. "I didn't want anything to happen to you."
She raised her right eyebrow, "Because you knew you'd need me to rescue your ass when your planned failed?"
Han grinned, "Exactly, Your Worship."
Leia rolled her eyes and returned his grin, "Why, Captain Solo, you're going to make me blush."
"Like that's difficult," he waggled his brow.
Leia opened her mouth, but her retort was interrupted by a giant yawn. When she recovered, she asked, "Is it safe enough to sleep?"
"What? The wine go to your head?" he grinned.
"I think my tiredness has more to do with being rudely awakened this morning than the wine," she retorted.
"It has been an eventful day," Han commented.
Leia started to push herself to her feet, "That bed upstairs looked comfortable."
"Is that an invitation, Your Worship?" Han asked as he caught her hand.
"I'm sorry, Captain," she tried to disengage her hand, "you'll have to find your own accommodations."
"Actually," Han gently pulled her back to the ground. Her tipsy state made her quite pliable. "We're staying here tonight."
"Why?" she asked, but she didn't move from where she sat.
"Don't you find here a little more…romantic?" he waggled his eyebrows.
Leia gazed into his hazel eyes for a moment, "Safer here, right?"
Han nodded. Then he held his arms out wide, "It can be safe and comfortable. Come here."
To his surprise, the princess crawled on her hands and knees toward him, closing the distance between them. She then adjusted her skirts and snuggled under his right arm, resting her head on his shoulder. Han couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Was she that intoxicated?
"What's wrong?"
Han peered hard into her large dark and quite clear eyes. She was lounging against him in spite of her clear head. He relaxed his arms around her, "Nothin'."
"Good," she rested her hand across his chest. "For a moment I thought I was making you nervous."
"Me? Nervous?" Han cleared his throat. "Never."
Leia stretched her neck and placed a soft kiss on Han's cheek, "Good night, Han."
Han caught her face in his hands, "Good night, Leia."
Leia's large dark eyes widened as Han leaned toward her. She closed her eyes, and a chill ran through her entire being as she anticipated his lips on hers.
"Hey!"
Both the princess and the smuggler jumped in opposite direction as a bright blue light filled the pantry.